The Durmstrang Exchange
by oldjadesneonjoy
Summary: Twenty years after the Battle of Hogwarts, a mild-mannered Hufflepuff student is sent on a student exchange to the Durmstrang Institute. There he falls into a world of intrigue, duelling, and revolutionary plotting. The established wizarding order will never be the same again! A story about Durmstrang, the nature of magic, and the rotten heart of the wizarding world. Updates weekly
1. Unwanted Exposure

Early on a warm September morning, Erebus Flint was on the verge of a breakthrough. He was a boy in his fifth year of schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. He was rather short for a 15 year old, and had a round faced with tidy brown hair. Hunched in a nook behind a pile of barrels in the Hufflepuff Common Room, surrounded by open books with fold-out diagrams, he was reciting the last element to a spell. He placed a pinch of dried powder of fluxweed upon his tongue.

"_Altitudinis Paribuso!" _Erebus incanted, waving his wand with a decisive flick. The end glowed with a soft blue light which he touched against his forehead. He didn't feel any different than before.

Hopping out from behind the barrel he saw a gaggle of first years playing wizarding roulette with _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_.

"Do I look taller to you?" he asked. The first years didn't seem to think so. This spell was supposed to make him taller. What had gone wrong?

He saw Gavin Harwick enter the common room, the barrel door opening for him. He wore the yellow tie of a prefect and usually stood about a foot taller than Erebus.

As Erebus looked at him, he felt his shirt tighten and his robes lift. In moments he could look straight ahead into Gavin's eyes.

"That's quite the growth spurt, Flint," he said, coolly.

"Wait until everyone sees!" cried Erebus as he pushed by him, out to the corridor near the kitchens. The smell of breakfast wafted through and followed him as he ran upstairs to the Great Hall. There the majority of the student body was sitting out on the long tables, eating food summoned from the kitchen below.

Up on the high table, some of the staff had arrived for breakfast, including the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid. The rumour about school was that Hagrid was half giant, and Erebus could believe it as he stood over eleven foot tall. He was sitting next to the Herbology teacher, Professor Longbottom, famous for his actions in the Second Wizarding War, a few years before Erebus was born.

Erebus hurried up through the centre of the hall, past the lonely spot at the end where he'd usually eat, and climbed up the two steps to the high table.

"Thank you for telling me about the fluxweed, Professor!" said Erebus, interrupting his teacher mid-crumpet.

"Wha's that about fluxweed?" Hagrid interrupted. "Not making polyjuice potions are we now?"

"No, Professor," Erebus said quickly. Making oneself look like another would be forbidden magic, but there was nothing in any rules he had heard about making one as tall as others. He met Hagrid's interrogating gaze and smiled innocently.

It was then that things started to go horribly wrong.

Erebus's robes started to lift higher. His shirt tightened more and the leather of his shoes dug in to his feet. Before he knew what was happening, his buttons pinged off and his robes tore along the shoulder. This was not the worst of it. He drew up to a full height of well over eleven feet and the seat of his trousers burst asunder. His clothes in tatters Erebus exposed himself to the entire school. The spell did exactly what it had been designed to do in making him as tall as anyone he happened to be looking at.

The hall erupted into laughter as the students began to notice Erebus's unnaturally huge, mostly bare self standing over them before the high table.

He turned to look at everyone. Slytherin, Griffindor, Ravenclaw and his own Hufflepuff house all laughing alike. And as he looked at them, he shrunk, falling out the last of his clothes. Panicked, before the teachers could help him, he ran naked through the hall past everyone.

Sprinting down to the common room, he hammered on the barrel door to be let in, there he streaked past the first years who caught a glimpse of him as he ran to the dormitories.

There, fully dressed, over-dressed even, he remained all day despite beseeching by Gavin and the other prefects that he was risking points being deducted from the House. When they came in he refused to meet their eyes.

The next day, when he did venture out for lessons, the whispers were unbearable. _Erebutts_ they called him. He became withdrawn. For a week he did no work, became uninterested in spells. He hurried back to the dormitories after his lessons. And each night he cried himself to sleep, replaying the scene over in his mind, each time as excruciatingly embarrassing as the last.

On the eight day of this, Erebus Flint decided he had had enough. He packed his bags with all his possessions: the textbooks he was loathe to depart with (having cost his parents many galleons), his collection of Chocolate Frog Cards, his belt with pouches for spell components and a sealed jar of nurgles (which to all the world looked like an empty jar). He wore black jeans and his mustard house sweater. They felt ill-fitting and he still wasn't sure that he had shrunk back to the correct size since the spell wore off.

He tucked his slender pine wand into a holster at his hip. Finally, he put on his coat and attempted to leave Hogwarts.

He was on the bridge leading towards the town of Hogsmeade when he heard a voice behind him.

"And just where do you think you're going, Mr Flint?" It was Headmistress McGonagall. Erebus had always suspected he wasn't much liked by the headmistress, but then again he suspected he wasn't much liked by most people.

He turned back to see the old witch, but still averted her gaze.

"I'm going home," he said. "I can't be at the school after what happened."

"Mr Flint, losing one's clothes in the great hall may be undignified, but it is hardly the end of the world," McGonagall replied, sternly. "In nine months time everyone will have forgotten all about it."

"I can't live with people whispering about me for nine months!" Erebus cried.

The Headmistress considered Erebus for a moment. "There is another option available," she mused. "But it might not suit a gentle Hufflepuff boy..."

Erebus's heart rose. "Wh-what would that be?"

"I have been approached by the new Headmistress of the Durmstrang Institute about restarting the old student exchange program. We could send you."

"YES!" snapped Erebus, before he knew what he was saying.

"Durmstrang is not as warm and inviting a place as Hogwarts," said McGonagall. "And you would have to study very hard on your return for your OWLs."

"I can study hard. You know I can study hard, Professor," he replied. Erebus suspected the only reason he was put in Hufflepuff was for his propensity for diligence. That and because he asked not to be put in Slytherin like his father. Once in Hufflepuff he had not managed to make the firm and loyal friends he had hoped for.

"This isn't a decision to be taken lightly Mr Flint," said McGonagall.

"It's either Durmstrang or back home to the troll stable," Erebus said decisively.

"In that case," said McGonagall, "providing we can get permission from a parent then you may go."

"My bags are already packed!"

And so it was that Erebus Flint, a mild-mannered Hufflepuff, came to be sent to the Durmstrang Institute.


	2. A Meeting at Port

The Durmstrang Institute was located somewhere in northern Europa and, like Hogwarts, could not normally be reached by the normal magical means such as floo powder or portkey. Hagrid had offered to take Erebus on his flying motorbike and so soon Erebus was squeezed in the sidecar with his luggage.

The journal was cold and shaky as the motorbike sped high across the sky. Far below was the ocean, then cold northern mountains and fjords. After some long hours of travel, Erebus was beginning to drift off when, without warning, Hagrid brought the motorbike hurtling through the clouds towards a iced-covered lake. In the centre of the lake was a tiny islet with a pier sticking out of it and a small hut. The bike bumped down heavily on the pier and skidded to a stop across the icy boards.

"Here we are then!" Hagrid said, standing up from the bike and helping Erebus stumble out and find his feet. "And there's yer case."

Once all of Erebus's things were unloaded, Hagrid stood about for a moment awkwardly. "Well, this is where you'll be waiting for your next ride. They're right keen on security are Durmstrang."

"I'll be fine, really," said Erebus. "Thank you for taking me this far."

"Right, that'll be me then," said Hagrid, patting his legs and eyeing up his motorbike. "Have a good time now. It won't be like Hogwarts, tha's fer sure."

"That's what I'm counting on."

Hagrid took one last look around and mounted his motorbike and with a roar of the engine he sped back along the pier and up into the sky. Soon he was a speck in the clouds.

Erebus was alone. He looked around at the creaking ice, the forested distant shore, and the small hut. The hut was completely open fronted and faced the pier. Inside was a bench which Erebus sat upon. It was cold and so Erebus performed a charm to blast hot air from the end of his wand at himself. That soon grew uncomfortable, so he unpacked and put on some extra layers from his bag and settled in to read to pass the time and ignore the cold.

Erebus was desperately trying to find all references to the Durmstrang in his _A History of Magic _textbook. He learned it was founded in late 12th century by a witch named Nerida Vulchanova, and he was just beginning to learn about her grisly fate when he heard a voice in front of him.

"God aften. Uh... guten abend?"

Erebus looked up from his book to a see a young woman dressed in blood red robes, a great white fur cloak wrapped her shoulders. She had ghostly pale skin and long, straight blonde hair. She proffered her hand.

"Uh hello. I'm Erebus. Erebus Flint." he said, shaking her hand uncertainly.

"Ah English? Ja?" she said. "Ditte Blodmane. Pleased to be meeting you."

She took a seat on the bench and, taking out brilliant red wand, she said, "_Hjemligøre!"_

Cushions sprouted from the bench beneath Erebus and tapestries unravelled from the rickety wooden walls. A carpet spilled across the dirt floor, and despite the large opening to the outside, the space became warm as if there were a roaring fire before them.

"I don't recognise your face," said Ditte. "Are you new to Durmstrang?"

Erebus couldn't quite place her accent. Or her age. Like a lot of teenage girls he met, he wasn't sure if she was the same age or much older.

"Yes! I've not been yet," he said. "I'm waiting for the lift. Are you the lift? The... the transport?"

"Oh no. You'll know it when it comes," she said. "You're too old to be first joining. Aha! You were taught at home and then your master was eaten by a dragon? Ja?"

"Uh not quite…"

Ditte took a close look at him, at his house sweater, at his textbook on his lap, at his big case. "You're from another school. You must be from... Svinvorter, what do you call it..."

"Hogwarts."

"Ja! Hogwarts. Did they flee you from that place?"

"Flee? Uh..."

"Did they make you go?"

"No, no, I'm just on exchange." Erebus said, trying to push back the memory of his leaving. He closed his book and packed it away in his bag. As he stood his wand jutted out from his side.

"Is that fir wood?" she asks.

"It's pine," said Erebus. "It was my great-great-grandfather's, he gave it me in his will."

"Pine… pine…" she rolls the word over her tongue and flicks her wand slowly. "Ah _pine_! You'll have a _very_ long life ahead of you," said Ditte. The way she said it made it sound more ominous than necessary. "Ha! Is that, troll?"

"Troll-whisker core. Yes," said Erebus, defensively. It wasn't one of the great three noble magical materials used in most modern wand making, but it was a very old wand. He was convinced the wand wasn't any less powerful than those of his fellow classmates with their unicorn hair, dragon heart-string and phoenix feather cores.

"Now I am thinking you are clever to bring that," said Ditte, a smile creeping across her face. "No one is wanting to take a troll wand."

Erebus frowned and covered up his wand beneath his coat once more. As much to change the subject, he blurted out, "what are you doing here anyway? Hasn't term already begun?"

Ditte turned to look out across the frozen waters, her face set with an inner determination. "I was demoted too far. I've won the right to return now. They will see."

No sooner had she spoken as the ice began to crack across the ice and mermaid figurehead burst forth from the waters below. Slowly, uncannily, the ship emerged from the water, like a ship wreck in reverse. The sails were in tatters, the masts bent, and ethereal lights glowed from the portholes. Ice shards cracks and scattered across the pier.

"Here it is," said Ditte, standing up. She tapped her wand on the wall of the hut and the cushions, carpet and tapestries rolled away into nothing and the cold once again took over the space.

"Here it is," repeated Erebus as he stared at the ship in wonder and apprehension.


	3. A Lesson in the Ship

The gangplank slammed down on the pier and a stern looking man strode down. He was perhaps in his forties with greying hair in a military cut and close-fitting black duelling robes.

"That's Professor Gewäsch," Ditte whispered to Erebus as they stood together on the little islet in the middle of the frozen lake. "He teaches Technik."

"Technique? Like wand technique?" Erebus whispered back as he watched the imposing man descend the gangplank.

"No, like, technology. Muggle stuff."

"He's the _Muggle Studies_ teacher?!" Erebus exclaimed, thinking of Hogwarts own kindly muggleborn teacher of _Muggle Studies._

Professor Gewäsch pulled out a clipboard and looked down at the two students.

"Ditte Blodmane?" he said, his voice resounding loud and crisp in the cold quiet of the lake.

"Ja, Professor," said Ditte nodding and walking past him up the gangplank.

"_Revelio!_" the Professor boomed, swishing his wand at Ditte. She turned back at him and scowled, a bright red burn-mark spread across her face. Gewäsch, apparently satisfied with this, let her continue and turned to Erebus.

"Erebus Magnus Flint?" he said.

"Yes, yes, that's me," said Erebus, lifting his arm slightly and then putting it quickly down again.

"_Revelio!_" Gewäsch casted his wand at Erebus. Nothing happened.

"It really is me!" Erebus said, a nervous tension in his voice. "I don't know why anone would try too pretend to be me. I guess you're taking precautions, huh?"

Gewäsch just looked at him.

"I guess I'll just be getting on the boat now?"

Gewäsch kept staring until Erebus hurried up the gangplank. He followed Ditte down some rickety steps into the hull. The teacher followed behind.

Inside the hull was a small gymnasium. Dumbbells were slotted in racks bolted to the floot. Ropes and bars hung from the ceiling. On one end were giant running wheels, as if for some monstrous hamster.

"What's with all this?" asked Erebus.

"Difficult labour," said Gewäsch, appearing behind the boy. "At Durmstrang we believe in fitness of the body as well as the mind. Soft Hogwarts children have no place among us. Still. I am willing to see the experiment through. Take this."

He gave Erebus a small vial of silvery liquid.

"Thanks. What is it?"

"Polyglot Potion, enriched with the memories of a native German speaker. It will help you speak the official school language."

"Lots of students are taking it," said Ditte.

"Well, bottoms up!" said Erebus, and with those words getting a painful flashback to the incident. He brushed the memory aside and downed the potion, expecting the worst. It tasted faintly of sausages and cloves.

_NEIN, NEIN, WAS MACHST DU?!_

He convulsed with a confused and horrible image of himself but much older contorting in pain, shouting out in horror, before a hooded figure wielding a glowing wand.

"Looks like you got a nasty batch there, Erebus," Ditte said. Her mouth didn't seem to move the way he expected, and her face was already back to its previous total paleness.

"Can you understand me, child?" asked Gewäsch, also moving his lips strangely.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, I can understand you. What was that?" Erebus said. The vision had passed and the memory of it was quickly receding like an uncaptured dream.

"Oh that's good, you have a bit of an accent but your German is passable now," said Ditte. "You often get those unwanted memories when you drink Polyglot Potion. It's a big motivation to learn a language! I know three now, Danish, of course, German for, and I've been learning English."

"Miss Blodmane here has begun to understand the lesson of my class," said Gewäsch with something approaching approval. He looked at her and said, "still I am surprised you returned."

Ditte took a step towards the gym equipment and began to stretch. "I'm going to be more prepared. Erebus, you can spot me."

Gewäsch left for another part of the ship and soon the whole craft lurched forward. Ditte held onto one of the wall mounts as Erebus tumbled towards the front of the room. As the ship righted itself, now presumably underwater, though Erebus could see no sign of it as there were no true windows.

By the time he picked himself up, Ditte had already pulled off her outer layers, her fur cloak and the red robes folded neatly on a hobby horse. Beneath she wore close-fitting sportswear. Erebus looked on the contours of her well-toned arms with a mixture jealousy and self-consciousness.

For the rest of the journey, Erebus haphazardly tried to assist as Ditte lifted weights. "Aren't there spells for this?" he eventually asked, as she lay on a bench, lifting a large dumbbell above her.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _Ditte said. Nothing happened of course, her wand being still at her side. She racked the weight and sat up. Taking her wand in hand, she swished it at the weight and called out "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" once again. Now the weight hovered up.

"A witch as a witch is only as good as the magic at her disposal. If you want to be able to fight, you can't rely on it for everything. Everyone knows that's where Voldemort went wrong."

The actions of Voldemort, a most powerful (and now most dead) dark wizard, took up a disproportionate amount of History of Magic classes at Hogwarts. The minutiae of the battles was a common conversation topic, except back at his two homes where Erebus's mother forbade all such talk, and Erebus's father was too eager for that sort of talk so Erebus avoided it.

"Voldemort was as evil as you can get," he said. "Literally everything he did was wrong."

Ditte grinned. "You're going to have an interesting time at Durmstrang."

"Is it true they teach you the Dark Arts there?" he asked.

At this Ditte laughed. "Do you mean offensive spells? Of course! Or do you mean soul corruption? Splintering, diluting and warping oneself? Of course!"

"Really?!" Erebus said. His mind flashed to images of his grandfather's dark mark bared on a moving photograph on an old copy of _The Daily Prophet_ stashed in his father's attic.

"We study Pataphysics. If you don't know that tearing apart your soul will destroy the _you _part of you, then you might be tempted to it, like that Voldefool."

The boat suddenly pitched upwards. Ditte pulled Erebus onto the bench and the pair of them held on as the boat hurtled up out of the water.

The door to the deck sprang open and water dripped down. Erebus carefully climbed up the slick deck, pulling his case behind him. The sky was now a black canvas smeared with countless stars, brighter than Erebus had ever seen before. From the deck he could see he was in a caldera, a mountaintop lake surrounded by a high ridge on all sides. And there, nestled in the mountainous rock, surrounded by high fir trees, was the squat castle of Durmstrang.


	4. Durmstrang by Moonlight

**Chapter 4 - Durmstrang by Moonlight**

The boat glided across the caldera to dock at the shores beneath the castle. Erebus clambered gingerly down the gangplank. On the shore, a rough dirt path wound up through the rugged woodlands to the castle. Ditte followed shortly after, now fully dressed once more, her red wand drawn, and her eyes cast with suspicion at the trees before them.

Professor Gewäsch walked close by. "Follow me." he said. "Both of you."

They strolled up into the woods. The trees stood tall and silent before them. The path opened up into a grassy clearing, in the the centre of which was a vast fairy ring. The white mushrooms gleamed in the moonlight. A twig snapped.

"_Lumos!_" Ditte shouted, and the clearing burst into light.

A portly boy dressed in bright red robes stepped out from the woods. He had a long black beard at odds with his youthful face.

"Ditte Blodmane, I challenge you!" he bellowed, his robes fluttering as if there had been a strong wind. "Name your contest!"

"Jump into the lake, Aladár," Ditte said, rolling her eyes.

"Do you forfeit the challenge?" Aladár asked, a slight note of hope in his voice.

"Mr Dankó," interrupted Professor Gewäsch. "You should know that Miss Blodmane has yet to be sorted into her division."

"Everyone knows she'll be down to Tin," Aladár shot back.

"What everyone knows is neither here nor there. Come along."

Erebus and Ditte followed Gewäsch up to the castle. The path widened and the trees thinned to reveal the brick walls of the castle. The main building stood perhaps four stories tall from which jutted seven towers at seven different heights. Silhouetted by the moon for a brief moment was a rider upon a broom, flying between the towers.

The trio walked up an external stairway cleaving close to the stone and entered into a doorway on an upper floor. There seemed to be many entrances to the castle at all levels.

"I thought you were supposed to be big on security here?" Erebus said quietly.

"If anyone unauthorised were to even find the place," Ditte replied, "I don't think a big door or a moat would stop them."

The entered into a dark stone corridor, illuminated only by the light still glowing from Ditte's wand which cast dark shadows up the walls. The far end of the corridor suddenly flashed with bright bolts of green magic which finished with the sound of shoes running across stone.

Gewäsch led the around a corner and up another flight of stairs until they arrived at a dead end at the top, marked only by a portrait of a rather elderly looking goblin.

"The headmistress, if you please, Urg," said the Professor.

"Bugger off you wizarding bastard," spat the picture of the goblin along with a few more choice words.

"I'll incinerate you," said Gewäsch, quite matter-of-factly.

"Good! Please do!" the goblin said, his voice steeped in resentment. "Be glad to be free of this prison."

Gewäsch sighed and raised his wand. He stared intensely at the painting and wordless flourished it. The goblin in the painting took on a glassy-eyed appearance and reached behind himself to pull a previously obscured lever. The wall next to the painting folded in on itself revealing a small antechamber and a door beyond. Gewäsch led the others inside.

"Wait here while I deal with Miss Blodmane," Gewäsch said, opening the door. Erebus was left in the antechamber. He poked his head round to look at the portrait. The goblin inside shook his head vigorously and his eyes lost their white sheen.

"What are you looking at?" Urg barked.

"I've never seen magic being used on an enchanted painting before like that," said Erebus.

"I'm not just any painting am I? I'm bleeding Urg the Unyielding. Terror of the Ministry."

"The Ministry of Magic? In Britain? What are you doing here?" Erebus asked, wondering how a British goblin painting came to be in Scandinavia or Switzerland or wherever Durmstrang really was. He faintly realised that he had stopped speaking in German to the goblin.

Urg curled his lip. "I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn't you be learning your wand magic in Hogwarts?"

"I'm a transfer. I'm here on exchange," Erebus said.

"Ha!" A wicked grin spread across Urg's face. "I thought British wizards were cruel. But they have nothing on the buggers here. You'll see."

The door opened behind Erebus and with a final look at the decrepit goblin, he turned and entered the room beyond. As he did the wall rippled behind him, closing up.

He walked into a large chamber lined with books that stretched to the ceiling far above. Unlike the headmistress's office at Hogwarts, there were no paintings of any kind. The only possible decorative object was a large orb in the centre of the room which seemed to be the only source of light. A desk stood near the orb, at which sat a woman who was leaning back in the chair, her feet upon he desk. There was no sign of either Ditte Blodmane or Professor Gewäsch.

The woman was short and looked perhaps in her mid-fifties. She wore comfortable looking green silk robes. She had dark brown skin and tight black curled hair that spilled out above a green bandana. A book of runes was resting on her lap.

"Erebus Flint. I am your new Headmistress, you may address me as Professor Xoog. Or Miss, if you prefer."

"Yes Miss," said Erebus, pleased that in at least one area the school did not differ from Durmstrang.

"There are few rules at Durmstrang but they are rigorously enforced with punishment or expulsion," Xoog continued, sitting upright in her chair and placing the book upon the desk. "Note that as a part of the terms of our exchange agreement, if you are expelled from Durmstrang you will be expelled from Hogwarts. Is that clear?"

"Yes, quite clear," Erebus gulped.

"Rule one: do not kill, banish, dismember, render permanently insensible or otherwise destroy another student's capacity as a witch or wizard.

"Rule two: obey the instructions of members of staff.

"Rule three: wear the correct school uniform for your division.

"Rule four: do not bring the school into international disrepute.

"Rule five: follow the dictates of the Challenge System.

"That is it. Are we clear?" Xoog looked at Erebus as he tried to process what the rules could mean.

"What's the 'Challenge System'?" Erebus asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"At Durmstrang, there are no examinations and all classes are elective. Your final grade will be based on the division you are in at the year's end. At the end of each term you may either go up or down a division." 

"Like in quidditch!" said Erebus.

"In a way," said Xoog. "Over the course of the term you will earn points for beating other students within your division in magical challenges. They will challenge you, and I suggest you challenge them in return. While you are engaged in a challenge no one else can challenge you, and the one who is challenged sets the challenge. This competition between students is the entire drive behind the school. It is the reason you will attend to classes and improve."

Erebus was struck dumb. He was imagining the imposing students of the school fighting him. While the rules prevented them killing them, there was no mention of grievous harm.

"There are seven division, in order: Lead, Copper, Tin, Mercury, Iron, Silver, and Gold. New first year students are usually placed in Lead or Copper. Students who choose to remain at the school longer than five years usually hope to reach Silver or Gold. I have seen your report card from Hogwarts and have decided to place you in Tin."

"But Miss, that's not very high!" Erebus said. "I'm a fifth year."

"You will find the standards here are more exacting than at Hogwarts. If you believe yourself to be worth more then show it this term. Now, if you will make your way to the Tin dormitory, you will find a uniform awaits you."

She knocked twice on her desk and the floor disappeared underneath Erebus. He hurtled down a chute in utter darkness. He slid upwards momentarily and then shot out into the air above a courtyard. He hit the floor hard and only just managed to roll out the way as his case hurtled out after him to land with a thud on the grass where he had just been laying.

Around him he could see the red brick walls with their glass crittall windows. The only illumination was the moon, and a soft enchanted glowing from various windows.

A tall boy walked up lugging with a broom over shoulder and a large suitcase floating beside him. An tawny owl sat upon the case and observed the scene. The boy reached down and helped Erebus up off the floor.

"I don't recognise you, so you must be my replacement, from Hogwarts!" the boy said with good English. He offered his hand. "Todor Krum."

"Erebus Flint," said Erebus, trying to match the much bigger boy's firm handshake.

"I've wanted to go to Hogwarts ever since I was a small child." His voice was deep and enthusiastic. "My uncle Victor told me so much about it. Is it true there are dances and beautiful women and you don't have to fight anyone?"

"Um, there are balls occasionally," Erebus considered. "The girls are okay I guess. And yeah, fighting is definitely discouraged. Banned even."

"I'm going to have a wonderful time!" Todor grinned.

"Um, is there anything I should know?"

Todor considered a moment. "Yes, don't specialise in just one thing otherwise you'll never beat anyone else. But you do need to be the best at one thing otherwise people will be able to beat you at your own challenges."

"So don't specialise, but do specialise?"

"There's almost always at least two students that will go up, it depends on the division size. So don't be afraid to make blood pacts. But only make a pact with someone who's any good."

"Wow, that's a lot to take in..." Erebus said.

Todor slapped him on the back as he continued on walking. "I'm sure you'll be fine! Don't take advice from paintings, don't trust Danish girls, and keep your wand close to you at all times."

Before he disappeared completely, Erebus remembered something. "Where's the Tin dormitory?"

"Third smallest tower!"

And with that, Erebus was left alone in the courtyard. He wasn't allowed to wander Hogwarts at night, and here he was, lost in Durmstrang by moonlight.


	5. An Unexpected Crowd

The stairs to the third smallest tower at Durmstrang are behind a tin-coloured tapestry on the third floor. Erebus had to walk up and down the corridor looking for the entrance three times before a painting decided to helpfully point it out to him.

"Your pacing is keeping me awake!" said a rather sleepy woman from the sixteenth century wearing a fine oil painted dress. "Go through the tapestry and go to bed!"

Erebus obliged, pulling back the tapestry and walking up the stairs. He stepped nervously. He wondered if they had prefects at Durmstrang. A prefect showed everyone to the Hufflepuff dormitories when he was a first year. They even gave everyone hot cakes in the shape of badgers to welcome them to the House. Here there was just a cold stairwell.

As he trudged up, he thought back at the promise Hogwarts had once held for him. He'd never had many friends growing up. His father's business left them very isolated, and his mother lived around muggles who he was told to stay away from. When he was sorted in Hufflepuff he had hoped to finally have the fast friends he had always read about others having. But he was awkward and shy and didn't have much interesting to say and the other children formed their cliques without him. He wasn't loathed, and he was able to take part in group activities, but he was nobody's best friend.

While no one may like me here, at least I'm saved from embarrassment in coming here, he thought as he opened the door at the top of the stairs. The door had a tin handle which chimed a distinct note as he turned it.

"WELCOME!" Everybody shouted, as he walked through the threshold. Streamers were let off, bubbles blew everywhere and confetti rained down from the ceiling. There were perhaps thirty young people in the common room to greet him, all dressed in the same red robed uniforms. He noticed for the first time that each of them had three tin-coloured bands on their sleeves. Most of the Tin division were about his age, some a bit younger, a few much older.

Ditte Blodmane appeared out of the crowd and helped take Erebus's case and set it aside. She stood beside him and addressed the others.

"Everyone, this is Erebus Flint. He's come all the way from Hogwarts to replace old Glum Krum. Can we have a round of applause?"

Almost everyone obliged with a clap. Erebus noticed Aladár Dankó, the boy who had challenged Ditte in the woods, roll his eyes and disappear up to the dormitories.

"Thank you! Thank you everyone. It's so nice to be here," said Erebus, and he realised as he looked at the unexpectedly warm faces before him that he really meant it.

"Let me introduce you to the Tin students," said Ditte. "Some of them are still here from the last time I was in this Division."

"I'm not going to be able to remember everyone's names," Erebus protested, but Ditte was insistent. He went around shaking hands and exchanging names with everyone in the room. As he predicted, he wasn't able to keep hold of many of the names. There were a few who stood out.

"I'm Cassiopeia Rosier," said a girl with a British accent with long black hair and heavy eye-lids. She struck Erebus as being about his age, but he was very conscious of the fact he was a head shorter than her. "It's good to meet another member of the Sacred 28, this far from home."

She flashed a smile as she tried to bond with Erebus at being from a pure-blooded family. He smiled and nodded. He was saved from coming up with a proper response by the approach of the oldest person in the room, a young man around the age of 20 with lank greasy hair and terrible skin.

"This is Himmel Drom," Ditte said. "He's been in Tin the longest."

"Longer than anyone in the history of the school," said Himmel. "I got sorted straight into here. Spent a year climbing up, a year climbing down, and I've been here nearly seven years now."

"They're not letting you graduate?" Erebus said, imagining being stuck at school for so many years.

"It's more that they only kick you out if you're still here after ten years," Himmel said. "I've not finished everything I want to do yet."

"And that's everyone that I know," said Ditte with some finality. "And I make it my business to know everyone. So that means… who are you?"

She swivelled towards a waif-like girl blending into the stonework near the fireplace, one of the few students shorter than Erebus in the room. The girl shifted into view, and looked on the others with eyes with deep red irises.

"This is Zornitsa, our newest Tin," said Himmel. "She's the first student to be sorted straight into this division since I was!"

"You must be quite the witch!" Erebus remarked.

"I got Aladár and Todor this week, Himmel last week." she remarked. "I'm out of this Division at the end of this term."

"You let this kid beat you, Himmel?" said Ditte. "She's like almost half your age."

"What can I say," Himmel said with a big grin. "She's going to go far."

As the welcome party began to disperse and students went off to bed, Erebus ended up sitting in a voluminous sofa by the fireplace. Cassiopeia the blood-supremacist insisted on sitting next to him, Ditte sat across on a very fluffy armchair that occasionally scratched itself with one of its many legs. Himmel sat cross-legged on the floor and waved his wand idly at the fireplace which burned with an enchanted green flame. Everyone had a glass of sweet wine provided by Himmel, something that the prefects would never have allowed in the Hufflepuff dormitory.

"My parents refused to send me to Hogwarts. Too many mudbloods," said Cassiopeia. "How can you stand it, knowing they're diluting the pool?"

"No offence but you sound like my dad," said Erebus, loosening up a bit.

"Accio Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy," Cassiopeia called out, casting her wand about. There was a yelp from upstairs as a huge black book hurtled down from above, flew across the common room to land at last in Cassiopeia's lap.

"This is the perpetually revised edition," she explained, opening the huge book on her lap so that it opened onto Erebus's lap as well. "Let's see. Ah! Here we are. Flint. There's you, Erebus. No siblings. That's a shame. And your father is Marcus. Grandfather Jacobus, outlived by your great-grandfather Tartatus. Very strong lineage. Mother is Mauve Tripe. That's curious..."

Erebus slammed the book shut. "Let's not bore everyone with all that," he said.

"Hogwarts has mandatory classes doesn't it?" Himmel interjected. "I'd hate that myself. Haven't gone to a class in three years."

As he drank his wine, Erebus wondered what Himmel did with his time if he wasn't ascending the divisions in the Challenge system or going to classes.

"I don't recommend Himmel's approach," said Ditte. "Oh! Let's help you pick your classes. What did you do back at Hogwarts?"

Finally Erebus felt he was on firmer footing. "I'm going to take nine O. . Let's see, there's Charms and Transfiguration, obviously. Herbology and Astronomy... Defence Against the Dark Arts is mandatory..."

"They teach defensive spells separately to offensive spells?" queried Himmel, clearly surprised.

"They don't teach the Dark Arts at all!" said Cassiopeia, curling her lip in disgust. "We cover it all in Duelling here."

"What about the other four classes?" Ditte urged.

"Well I also had to take History of Magic and Potions," Erebus explained. "I chose to take Muggle Studies and Arithmancy."

"Why would you want to learn about Muggles?" asked Cassiopeia.

Before Erebus could answer, Himmel remarked, "Arithmancy is an intriguing one. You must be pretty sharp to have kept with it."

"The predictions stuff is fun when it works but it's my second worst class," Erebus admitted. "I'm literally Dreadful at it and Potions. Anything with exact amounts, I always get muddled up."

Ditte took a small sip of her wine. "You must be good at something to be sorted into Tin and not Copper or even Lead," she remarked.

"I'm Outstanding in Transfigurations!" Erebus admitted with pride. "I managed the Raven to Writing Desk in my first year."

"And what about in Charms and that Defence class?" Himmel asked. His wine sat untouched by the fire.

"Uh, Exceeds Expectation and Poor," said Erebus. "But I'm hoping to improve on that. Everything else is Acceptable."

"You don't sound like a very good wizard," Cassiopeia said bluntly.

"I try so hard, but I'm just bad at exams," said Erebus.

"I can only imagine how pointless they would be," remarked Himmel.

Ditte pulled out a timetable from the folds of her robe. "Let's help you pick your classes then," she said, scanning the list of courses. "Let's see… Tin Transfiguration is probably below your level, but if you're that good at it, you should take Alchemy instead. And Duelling. That's mostly charms."

"There's no Charms class?" asked Erebus.

"Utility spells aren't taught after the Lead and Copper Intro classes," Ditte explained.

"If you liked Muggle Studies, you'll love Technik," Himmel says.

"I should probably also try some things they don't teach at Hogwarts," Erebus said.

"Then take Pataphysics and Legilimency," said Ditte.

Erebus thought he probably should take some of the same classes as he did at Hogwarts if he wasn't to fail his OWLs completely upon his return. But the thought of skipping Potions and Arithmancy was entirely too tempting.

"Sounds good. Let's see that list," he said. He looked down at the courses and counted what he'd already agreed to. "Where's the History of Magic? And what's Ghoul Studies?"

"The last History teacher— " Ditte began

"—Ugh, don't take Ghoul Studies," Cassiopeia interrupted. "It's all dull theory. They don't even teach you how to make ghosts at Tin level."

"Ooh, they don't teach Wandlore at Hogwarts," said Erebus as he looked further. "And I suppose I should keep taking Herbology and Astronomy. So that's… Alchemy, Duelling, Technik, Pataphysics, Legilimency (whatever those are), Wandlore, as well as Astronomy and Herbology. That's only eight. Is that enough?"

"Infinitely more than I could be bothered with," Himmel shrugs.

"Eight is plenty," says Ditte. "Durmstrang will stretch you, but you don't want it to snap you."

"I did nine last year but I've dropped down to seven," says Cassiopeia. "There's just too much to do with all the Challenge prep."

Erebus nodded and half-way through had to stifle a yawn. "Maybe I should be getting some rest. It's been a very long day."

The others pointed the way to his dormitories and Erebus lugged his case up. "Lumos!" said Erebus, lighting his way up the dark stairway. He entered into a round room as directed. There were half a dozen single beds and Erebus found the only unoccupied one. He dressed into his pyjamas and slipped into the hard bed. Remembering Todor Krum's advice, he slipped his wand underneath his pillow.

In the dark, he heard Aladár Dankó's voice.

"I bet you think they're your friends now," he whispered. "But they're not."

"They seemed pretty friendly," Erebus said.

"I bet they asked you what magic you were good and bad at," Aladár continued.

"How did you know?"

"At Durmstrang everything is done for an advantage. They were just scoping out your strengths and weaknesses for when you challenge them. You're not going to last long here."

In the darkness, Erebus stared up and reconsidered his whole evening.


End file.
